


Beach Bet

by fancywaffles



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Het, Beach House, F/F, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Spring Break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancywaffles/pseuds/fancywaffles
Summary: Dorothea and Sylvain make a bet about who can hook up first, but spend too much time trying to sabotage each other to actually pay attention to the people they're trying to hook up with.(or yes, this is a ridiculous FEH inspired summer beach romp)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 26
Kudos: 226





	Beach Bet

**Author's Note:**

> This insanity brought to you by the Fire Emblem Heroes summer banner and twitter encouraging me (I'm @waffle_fancy if you're interested). 
> 
> Ages are slightly before post-Time Skip, everyone is at least a junior in University. If I can't go to the beach, at least these idiots can.

“This is insufferable,” Dorothea said, flopping herself down on the beach towel.

“Mm?” Sylvain asked, barely paying any attention from where he was napping underneath the umbrella, a cheesy sci-fi pulp novel covering his face.

“Ingrid is playing _volleyball_!” Dorothea said.

“Sounds like her,” Sylvain said, he moved the book off his face and looked up at Dorothea, his eyes widening. “Hello there, you’re looking like I snack I’d want—”

“Don’t start with me,” Dorothea snapped.

“You’re wearing a bikini!” Sylvain protested, shifting himself up onto his elbows. “I am only a man, Dorothea. Have sympathy.”

“No,” Dorothea said, glowering in the direction of Ingrid, who played lacrosse all year, except for when she was playing soccer for Soccer Club for _fun_ (or random pickup games of basketball or hockey depending on the time of year), who was now wasting spring break in a gorgeous beach house, by playing volleyball!

“Why is Ingrid being Ingrid bothering you?” Sylvain asked. When she looked back at him he was squinting into the sun and putting those ridiculous circle sunglasses back on that made him look like an aging rockstar try-hard from the 70s hitting on women too young for him.

Dorothea sighed and adjusted her hat. She probably didn’t need it under the umbrella, but she didn’t want to see what her hair looked like underneath and it completed the look. “I was hoping that I’d get to spend time with her.”

And make out when they _weren’t_ too drunk for Ingrid to realize she did in fact enjoy it. Did she have to wear those ridiculous board shorts and string top that emphasized how often sports were part of her routine? Ingrid was shorter than her but also looked like she could break her in half sometimes, it was not helping.

Sylvain’s smile was disgusting and he added to it with an eyebrow wiggle. “You’re trying to seduce her?”

“No,” Dorothea said out of principle. “I want her to be my girlfriend. This is the perfect time. You can see how good I look right now.”

“True,” Sylvain said. Dorothea allowed him the thorough once over he gave and then half-heartedly smacked him with the back of her hand. Sylvain laughed. “Do you need my help?”

“Oh please,” Dorothea said, rolling her eyes. “You couldn’t get anyone in the house to hook up with you if you tried.”

Sylvain pushed himself all the way up to sitting. “Those are fighting words, Arnault.”

Dorothea looked over to where Ingrid was slamming a volleyball down in some sort of gesture that knocked the ball over the net and caused her entire side of the net to do that annoying bro-fist pump thing that Dorothea wished she didn’t find so charming. “I have zero interest in fighting with you.”

“Maybe _I’ll_ hook up with Ingrid,” Sylvain said.

Dorothea turned towards him and hoped he could see the murder in her eyes. “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

“I’ve known her for a while, I could be sincere, it could happen,” Sylvain said, smiling too broadly in a way that didn’t meet his eyes. “I am an accomplished flirt I could have my way with anyone in the house, hell anyone on the beach.”

Dorothea stared at him for a long moment and then her mood made her feel far too cruel. “Would you like to bet?”

Sylvain appeared intrigued, his eyebrows raised over his sunglasses. “Terms?”

“Whoever hooks up first gets the single room,” Dorothea said. There was only one in the house they were staying at and it was sacrosanct. It even had its own bathroom. Technically they might have to bargain with the other housemates, but they were all so easy to talk into things.

“With anyone?” Sylvain asked.

Dorothea shook her head. “No. I want Ingrid. You should only have one goal too or else it’s not even.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “You’re truly confident you could put the moves on _anyone_ on the beach?”

Sylvain looked far too smug. Hubris. “Please. Who are you talking to? Pick a target and I’ll hit it.”

Dorothea smiled at him. “Felix.”

Sylvain’s startled. “What, no! That is not fair, ‘thea. Come on!”

“Oh so you’re admitting defeat?” Dorothea preened. “Lovely, single room is mine then.”

Sylvain narrowed his eyes at her and then glanced over towards the volleyball game, which included Felix who was spiking the ball so hard it smacked poor Dimitri right in the face. Sylvain wasn’t particularly good with the heat to begin with, but this had him sweating. Dorothea fought a grin.

Then Sylvain grunted in irritation and said, “You’re on.”

Dorothea raised her eyebrows and then saw Sylvain sit up straight and noticed that Dimitri, nose bloodied and head tilted towards the sky, was headed their way, followed by the person who had caused the injury.

Dorothea dug through the cooler for some ice and for lack of anything better, wrapped it in her sarong.

“It’s _not_ broken,” Felix said, defensively.

“I did not say it was — thank you, Dorothea,” Dimitri said, taking the patchwork icepack and applying it to his nose.

“That’s not a great look, Dimitri,” Sylvain said, unsympathetically.

“Thank you,” Dimitri said, in a much less sincere tone. Dorothea noted his shoulders were a little burnt too, people from Faerghus just didn’t know about about proper sun protection.

Well, Felix seemed to be a little better off, wearing a white cotton t-shirt and a scowl. “It’s not my fault,” he said. “You turned your head at the last minute.”

“Apologies,” Dimitri said, stuffily, but that could’ve been the way he was pinching his nose. “Next time, I’ll make sure to keep properly directed at you so you can hit the part of my face you were aiming for.”

Sylvain snorted and then badly tried to cover it with a cough, but Felix scowled at him, so it wasn’t successful.

“If you weren’t _ogling_ Byleth’s ass, it wouldn’t have hit anything!” 

“I was _not—”_ Dimitri started, sounding as if he was choking.

Dorothea pushed his head back again and adjusted the ice, cutting him off. “Don’t lean forward until the bleeding stops.”

Those pre-med courses her mother insisted she take (before giving up and realizing Dorothea was committed to her “useless Arts degree”) always seemed to come in handy during keg parties and beach vacations.

“The Professor’s here?” Sylvain asked.

“Don’t call her that,” Dimitri said. It was hard to tell if his face was red or if it was the bloodstains and slight magenta of her sarong. “She was our TA for _one_ semester and is only a year above us.”

“You hear that, Felix,” Sylvain said, “he wasn’t ogling her ass, he was ogling her personality.”

Felix’s lips twitched, which was as good as a guffaw and he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not broken, right?” he asked Dorothea, slightly less defensive this time.

“It doesn’t appear so,” Dorothea said. “Although you may wish to get some larger sunglasses, based on the way that appears to be bruising.”

Dimitri sighed and she patted him on the arm.

“I _didn’t_ mean you hit you with it,” Felix said.

Dimitri grunted, which was probably a response. Dorothea laughed and patted his arm again. “Why don’t you sit out the next round, or whatever they use in volleyball,” she said, tugging him until he sat on one of the many beach towels and blankets they’d spread out under the absurdly large umbrella.

Dimitri actually listened to her and settled himself down. That did mean they were down a player. That also gave Dorothea a wonderfully wicked idea. She stretched her arms up and adjusted the bottom of her bikini bottoms, which had started to crawl northwards and predictably drew Sylvain’s attention.

“Unbelievable,” Felix scoffed, noticing it as well, “You two are unbelievable,” he said again, directed at Sylvain and Dimitri, and turned around towards the game.

Sylvain looked after him and then turned to look up at Dorothea with a slightly open mouth. “You’re evil.”

She beamed at him. “I’m really going to enjoy that single room.” She waved her fingers and skipped off towards the game. “Ingrid?” she called out, “do you need another player?”

Ingrid lit up and nodded, waving her forward. “Of course, as long as you can avoid Felix’s aim.”

“Hilarious,” Felix said, dryly and bent to walk under the net to the other side, where Ashe and Caspar were waiting.

“I don’t know how to play,” Dorothea said. She was being honest. If she was being honest while also batting her eyelashes a little, then what crime was it?

Ingrid shook her head, but she was grinning. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll show you. It’s only a game for fun anyway.”

“That wasn’t your attitude five minutes ago,” Annette said. Dorothea presumed from the side of the net she was on, she was on their team.

“Shush,” Ingrid said, and drew Dorothea closer to give her some tips.

* * *

Sylvain rarely put much effort in, but Dorothea had basically declared war. And he wanted that single room. If it had been _anyone_ else he could’ve cleaned this up in a half hour, but how the hell did you seduce _Felix_? Also, how did he do it, so he didn’t get murdered, or worse completely blow up one of his longest friendships?

Ingrid was laughing as Dorothea completely missed the volleyball spike. Like a happy, charmed kind of laugh. Damn. She was good. He needed to up his game.

“Am I going to upset your puritanical values if I get a keg for tonight?” Sylvain asked Dimitri.

Dimitri looked at him, his nose had stopped bleeding, but he was definitely going to have a nice pair of shiners. “I’m surprised you’re asking.”

Sylvain stole a piece of ice from Dorothea’s sarong and rubbed it against his clavicle. The weather was nice, but every time there wasn’t a breeze he wanted to dunk his head in non existent snow. “I was thinking if we expand the festivities, we could invite more people, say… grad students you supposedly weren’t so distracted by that Felix almost knocked you out.”

It was hard to tell if Dimitri was irritated with the bruising. “I wasn’t distracted by… it isn’t like that. I just noticed she was here. Felix is exaggerating.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Who am I to judge either way?” He leaned in a little. “How about this, I’ll invite Byleth _and_ help you with her, if you do me a favor.”

He must’ve had it bad, because Dimitri seemed to seriously consider it before he said, “I don’t think so.”

Sylvain laughed. “Come on, it’s not a bad favor, you’ll love it and you _know_ I’m good at wing manning for you.”

Dimitri twisted his mouth. “What is the favor?”

Sylvain smiled broadly, easy. “Treat everyone to lunch at _So Sofishticated,_ that five star Yelp place Ingrid was dying to try.”

“That’s it?” Dimitri looked like he was looking for the catch.

“That’s it,” Sylvain agreed.

Dimitri looked off in the distance and then nodded. “Fine. Just don’t… don’t do anything ridiculous.”

“I will be the model of decorum,” Sylvain said, getting a disbelieving snort from Dimitri before he lifted himself off the blanket to break up the beach volleyball. Sylvain watched with a small smile as Ingrid lit up at the suggestion and the rest of them seemed amenable to it too, minus the one of them who was allergic.

Sylvain’s smile grew wider at Dorothea politely waved off probably whatever second suggestion they were making to include her out of embarrassment and obligation. She was too easy.

Felix was going with them, but Sylvain had work to do and he still had _no idea_ how to solve that part of the problem. Felix probably thought getting slapped with a glove and challenged to a duel was sexy. It wasn’t the worst idea, but he needed to keep workshopping it.

Sylvain lifted himself up and walked the beach until he found Byleth, devouring a meat skewer in an even smaller bikini than Dorothea was wearing… okay maybe he didn’t blame Dimitri for being distracted.

“Hey, Professor,” Sylvain said, waving as he approached. “Lucky coincidence! You’re spending Spring Break out here too?”

She swallowed the piece of meat she was eating and nodded. “My housemates and a couple of other grad students I know got a great deal on an AirBnB.”

Sylvain whistled. “This is a pretty pricey area, how good of a deal are you talking?”

“A bad deal,” Leonie said, surprising him, since he hadn’t noticed her. It was hard to notice anything with Byleth in that bikini.

“It’s not that bad,” Byleth said.

“The _dean_ is here.”

Byleth winced. “It’s her house.” She glanced back and sure enough Dean Rhea was dressed in a white bikini and one of those gauzy coverups that covered nothing. She was leaning against a porch, within throwing distance of them, chatting with Professor Manuela in a similar outfit. “Rhea hosts some faculty and grad students every year. She didn’t specifically mention that when she told me about the AirBnB listing, but…”

Leonie scoffed and stole the rest of Byleth’s skewer, taking an angry bite of the nearest piece of meat. “She’s been so weird and invasive and Catherine has the _grossest_ suck up gene when it comes to her,” Leonie said, still chewing.

“You know I didn’t know she’d be here!” Byleth said, exasperated. They’d clearly had this out already.

This was going to be easier than Sylvain thought. “Well, if you want to escape, we’re having a party at the house tonight. Young and beautifuls only,” he added, although gave Rhea an appreciative look. If she didn’t scare the shit out of him, he might have considered it. “It’s the big blue one,” he added. Not that it was hard to miss, Dimitri’s parents beach house was bigger than all of the houses on the beach.

Leonie scoffed. “Don’t worry it’s a yes, Byleth _can’t_ say no.”

Byleth gave Leonie a blank look. “I say no to you all the time.”

“Ladies, ladies,” Sylvain said. “You clearly need a night out? Come on. What do you say?”

“Can I invite my housemates?” Byleth asked.

“The more the merrier,” Sylvain said. “As long as they are not running the graduate department half the house is applying to.”

“Yeah sure,” Leonie said. “Sounds like fun, I guess.”

“Great,” Sylvain said, winking at them. “See you ladies then!”

He whistled under his breath as he mentally went over the details he’d need for tonight. He wondered how much arm twisting he’d need to do to convince Dedue to cook. Pizza was all well and good, but it wasn’t really good enough to be get Felix comfortable enough to be open to the idea of hooking up food. Dedue’s pineapple chicken however…

“Where’d everyone go?” Sylvain asked, innocently as he approached a sulking Dorothea, folding up one of her towels.

“Ugh, that _So Sofishticated_ place,” Dorothea said. “Which of course I can’t go to, because I’m allergic to everything on the menu.”

“So they’re bringing you take out?” Sylvain asked, smirking.

Dorothea looked up from her folding and narrowed her eyes at him. He saw the exact moment she figured it out and she stood up and pointed a finger at him. “The gloves are _off_ now, Gautier.”

“Shaking in my boots!” Sylvain said, laughing.

* * *

A kegger was _not_ the appropriate venue to get Ingrid to be her girlfriend. It was an appropriate venue to get tipsy and make out again, but dammit that wasn’t what this was about! It was about beating Sylvain.

Still. “Didn’t you bring that cute green one?” Dorothea asked Ingrid as she dug around the room they were sharing with Annette and Edie for clothes to wear to the pool party turned kegger.

“I only bought that in the first place because Annette bullied me into it,” Ingrid said, with a wry smile in Annette’s direction.

“You look great in it!” Annette said enthusiastically, from her own spot, trying on another top. Apparently she’d really hit it off with the “cute fish girl” at the restaurant and invited her to the party.

“Really?” Ingrid didn’t look like she believed her.

“Ingrid, please,” Dorothea said, holding up the sea-green swimsuit top with little flutter sleeves and a faux corset. “You will look edible in this.”

Ingrid flushed and shook her head, grabbing it from her. “You say the most over the top things sometimes, Dorothea.”

Dorothea frowned at her back and then tried not to gawk at it as Ingrid undressed and slid the top on, over the planes of her very athletic build. “Does it have to be so complicated?” Ingrid muttered, trying to get the ties straight.

Dorothea was about to help her out with it (and maybe help her out of it if anything could go right today), when Annette popped up out of nowhere and started tugging the ties straight. “It’s not that bad, here, see!” She shoved a white eyelet skirt at Ingrid. “This with it.”

“You are so bossy,” Ingrid said, exasperatedly and looked critically at the skirt that would show so much of her legs Dorothea might die. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Annette said, with an equal amount of exasperation, “and don’t say bossy, it’s gendered. You’d never call a boy bossy.”

“I absolutely would, I would call Felix bossy,” Ingrid said.

Annette didn’t seem to have a counterpoint to that but she went back to her own outfit choices.

Ingrid glanced over her shoulder at Dorothea, “Do you think this is too much?”

“Ingrid, I think you could wear a canvas bag and you’d look lovely,” she said, earnestly.

Ingrid waved her off, embarrassed, but did end up wearing it over the bottoms that came with the top. Dorothea had no intention of doing more than dipping her feet in the pool, so she threw on a lightweight maroon dress with a low back and sides over her swimsuit. “Are you going to do anything with your hair?” Dorothea asked Ingrid as she was pulling on her sandals.

“I don’t really have as much as you to do anything with it,” Ingrid said.

“Nonsense, I could—”

“ _Ingrid!_ ” the very familiar yell that cut Dorothea off was a dead man.

Ingrid gave an overwhelmingly exhausted sigh and opened the door to the bedroom to lean over the railing of the stairs, “Sylvain, you do know we all have cellphones!”

“Dedue says he can make pineapple shrimp too!” Sylvain called up.

Ingrid’s hungry face was unbearably charming, but it quickly disappeared and Ingrid yelled down, “No fish. Dorothea’s allergic!” Dorothea’s insides warmed up.

“It’s shellfish!”

“That’s still fish!”

“Dedue and Ashe already left for the grocery store,” Dimitri also bellowed up.

“Oh for crying out loud,” Ingrid said, and went back into the room to grab her cellphone. “I don’t know how I survive those boys,” she muttered, as she typed out a text. There was a quick response and she smiled and looked at Dorothea. “No fish. He said he’ll make sure there’s some vegetarian options too, since I guess Sylvain invited even more people.”

“Oh, did he?” Dorothea asked, leaning over the railing herself to glare at Sylvain’s stupid red hair. She took a few steps back into the room and beamed at Annette. “Annie, didn’t you say you wanted a karaoke machine?”

“Yes!” Annette said. “Did you find one?”

“No, but I think Felix had a lead,” she said.

“Perfect,” Annette said, brightly. “We still need to go over our project notes for the final semester project. The deadline will hit you so quickly if you’re not careful.”

“Too true,” Dorothea said, humming to herself as Annette practically skipped down the stairs. “Ingrid, now, what we were saying about your hair?”

* * *

On one hand, Sylvain had to give it to Dorothea, she was diabolical and he respected that. On the other hand, Sylvain hadn’t gotten Felix alone to talk for _five minutes_ all day and he was starting to get irritated. Even if he wasn’t trying to seduce Felix, Sylvain always talked to Felix for at least an hour — or he talked at Felix and Felix sometimes pretended he was listening for at least an hour. It was a key part of their friendship!

Sylvain grumbled and moved towards the keg to drown out his sorrows before he regrouped, while Annette talked to Felix about _school_. And somehow the night got worse. “Lorenz? What the fuck are you doing here—what the fuck are you _wearing_?”

“It is a pool party, is it not?” Lorenz asked. He was in freaking speedos and a crisp button up shirt. Sylvain was going to lose it. “And as to what I’m doing here, I was under the impression you invited me.”

“Why would I ever—” Sylvain remembered Byleth asking if she could invite her housemates. “You’re rooming with the Professor.”

“That is correct,” Lorenz said. “Although you don’t have to phrase it so—oh goddess, why is Claude here?”

“Riegen?” Sylvain asked and glanced behind him where Claude was talking to Dimitri’s step-sister (who they’d _had_ to invite because it was _her house too_ ).

“How many Claudes do you know?” Lorenz asked scathingly, and then pushed past him. “I suppose I’ll have to see what kinds of eligible young women are here tonight and ignore him.”

Sylvain couldn’t even bring the energy to throw anything back at him. Mostly he wanted to drown the image of that speedo out of his brain. He almost reflexively went to find someone to flirt with when he remembered what the hell he was supposed to be doing.

He was _not_ going to lose to Dorothea. No way in hell. If Lorenz was here that meant the rest of Byleth’s group was. Sylvain strode outside to where the pool and the majority of food and alcohol (and thus people) were congregated. “Mercedes!” Sylvain called over to her.

She smiled at him and walked up. “Hi, Sylvain. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Of course,” Sylvain said. “Always appreciate when ladies such as yourself can make it. Classes up the place.”

Mercedes glanced up at the back patio of the large beach house and raised her eyebrows. “It seems classy enough.”

Sylvain laughed. “Hey so, you know Annette came with us, right?”

“Oh, Annie’s here?” Mercedes asked. Her smile brightened. “I haven’t seen her in weeks.”

“You know how she is, workaholic, actually she’s trying to do work _right now_ with Felix. On vacation no less. You think you could twist her arm a little to relax?”

Mercedes nodded. “I’ll get her to loosen up. Everyone needs a break.”

“Exactly, you’re the best, Merce.”

Sylvain took a moment to grab a couple of beers off the keg, and then wheeled back around to high five Dedue and also steal a plate of pineapple chicken. It wasn’t the easiest to balance all three of those things as he made his way over to where Annette had previously been harassing Felix, but he finally managed, mostly without spilling.

“Beer?” Sylvain offered.

Felix took one and eyed the plate of chicken. “That all for you?”

“Of course not,” Sylvain said, and held it out. “So, you and Annie have fun?”

Felix took a bite of the chicken and shrugged. “She’s stressing about our final project.”

“I still don’t know why she’s taking kinesiology in the first place,” Sylvain said. “Unless she wants to be a PhysEd teacher?”

Felix shook his head and sipped his beer. “She’s thinking about double majoring.”

“Again? Wouldn’t that be a triple at this point?” Sylvain asked and then realized this conversation wasn’t very sexy. He cleared his throat and pressed into the wall with his shoulder so he was leaning into Felix, who was still stealing chicken off his plate. “So. You, uh, looked good playing volleyball today.”

“If that’s a crack about the Dimitri incident, I already said it was an accident.”

“No, I mean you—”

“Hey, Felix!” Ashe’s voice cut Sylvain off, because this was the worst day ever it. And it was _Ashe_ so it wasn’t like Sylvain could kick him or anything. He strode up, grinning. “Have you met Yuri?”

Felix shook his head.

Ashe grinned. “We went to high school together, but he’s at the GMU extension campus.” Politely called ‘the Abyss’ to no one who went there. “They’re trying to start a fencing program and I was thinking you could give him some tips?”

Oh, son of a bitch.

Felix immediately perked up at his favorite topic. “Sure.” At some point he’d taken the plate from Sylvain and Sylvain hadn’t noticed, he handed it back with one sad piece of pineapple chicken left and Sylvain watched at Felix followed Ashe across the yard and around the pool to where some guy with lavender hair was … _with Dorothea_.

“Son of a bitch,” Sylvain said out loud.

That was it… this really was war.

And war was hell.

Sylvain finished off the chicken and emptied the beer in the kitchen sink before heading back to the party and scanning the crowd for his target. Leonie was drinking a beer and laughing as Raphael threw a ping bong ball so hard it knocked over half the beer pong cups he’d set up.

“It’s okay, Raph,” Byleth was saying, patting him on the arm, while he tried to clean it up with his sleeves. “Why don’t we get a towel?”

Sylvain made a quick lap around to kick Dimitri and tell him to intercept on the way to the kitchen with towel knowledge, before swinging back around and smiling at Leonie.

“That face is worrying,” she said.

Sylvain laughed. “You’re funny. Ingrid always said you were funny.”

Leonie cocked an eyebrow. “Really? I was under the impression Ingrid didn’t say anything at all about me. We haven’t talked since Sophomore year.”

“When you painfully broke up,” Sylvain said, sympathetically.

“It wasn’t painful, pretty low drama actually,” Leonie still didn’t look like she trusted him. Why were the women he knew so sharp?

He tried a different tactic and winced. “Shit, right. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“Tell me what?” Leonie asked. Snagged her.

Sylvain shook his head. “No, I told Ingrid I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Sylvain, come on,” Leonie pressed.

Sylvain shoved his hands in his swim trunk pockets, and then realized that was a mistake when they almost came off and he tried to pull them up again without looking too ridiculous and ruining his pretend discomfort by flashing everyone. “Ingrid… well you know how she is. She _tells_ you it’s fine and mutual, but that’s to protect her soft squishy center.”

Leonie’s lips turned down and her brow furrowed. “I had no idea,” she said. “I should talk to her.”

“You should,” Sylvain agreed. He watched her go off and hummed to himself.

Felix was still in the middle of what was probably going to be a ten hour TED talk about how pointy things worked, so Sylvain found the makeshift bar and made himself a Blue Lagoon, cheerfully adding a cherry on top. He made a second one for the hell of it and walked to the pool, sitting at the edge and sinking his feet in, enjoying the soft sounds of conversations and… Annette singing ABBA on a karaoke machine he didn’t remember them having.

He shrugged and took a sip of his drink. Not too much time later Dorothea’s smug voice broke in. “Giving up that easily?”

“Nope,” Sylvain said, he held up one of the drinks to her.

She primly sat down on the edge of the pool, without dipping her feet in, and shook her head. “Not falling for that.”

“I didn’t poison it.”

“Claude is here, I can’t be sure you didn’t ask for tips.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He glanced across the pool where Dimitri was making moderate progress talking to Byleth. Aaaand she did the tuck the hair behind the ear thing. Even Dimitri couldn’t screw this up… probably.

“You look smug, is that your handiwork?” Dorothea asked, gesturing to them.

“I might have had something to do with it,” Sylvain said, airily.

“Very altruistic of you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sylvain said. He turned his head a little to meet her eyes. “Freed up Byleth’s sister, who was dying to talk to Ingrid.”

Sylvain expected indignation, to get cursed out, or to maybe get shoved in the pool, what he didn’t expect was for Dorothea to throw the second drink in his face. “You _asshole_ ,” she said, sounding more than a little upset.

“What was that for? It’s just a bet!”

“You can have the fucking room,” Dorothea said. “That’s not— _Leonie_ , really? I’m not playing a game, Sylvain. I actually _like_ Ingrid, you—you—” She didn’t seem to be able to find the words, that or she didn’t want him to see that she’d started to tear up, which he’d feel worse about if he wasn’t covered in sticky alcoholic blue liquid.

“What the hell is her problem?” Sylvain muttered to himself, shaking some of the Blue Lagoon off his arm and grunting as he realized he’d probably have to shower and change in the middle of a freaking party. And it wasn’t like he _didn’t_ like Felix. He didn’t know what Dorothea was talking about, she was the one that made the stupid bet in the first place.

Sylvain glanced over to where Felix was still talking to lavender sword boy, who was, annoyingly attractive in that ethereal way people rarely could pull off and grumbled to himself. At least he could use the shower in the single room now.

* * *

Dorothea really should have put on waterproof mascara, but she had no plans on getting in the water tonight, so now she looked like a raccoon. She was still trying to dab it off in a way that wouldn’t streak her face red when there was a knock on the door. “There’s another bathroom down the hall,” she said. Honestly people were so impatient.

“Dorothea?” Ingrid’s voice. Of course. “Is everything okay?”

Dorothea cleared her throat and put her extensive theatre training to good use and made herself sound like she hadn’t been sobbing in the bathroom. “Of course it is, darling. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because Edelgard said she saw you run in here crying,” Ingrid said.

 _Edie_. Dorothea thought exasperatedly and then said, “Edie’s drunk. I’m fine. I… had a small wardrobe malfunction and I’m fixing it. Don’t worry about me, Ingrid.”

“Can I come in?” Ingrid asked quietly.

Impossible to say no to that voice. Dorothea gave one good effort to clean the mascara up from underneath her eyes and opened the door slowly. Ingrid stepped into the powder room. At some point she must’ve jumped in the pool, because her white skirt was missing and her swimsuit was damp.

“You were crying,” Ingrid said, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Dorothea said. “I’m being silly. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters if you’re upset, Dorothea.”

Dorothea stared down at Ingrid, her lip was quivering and Ingrid reached out to hold her hand and squeeze in a reassuring manner. Dorothea could feel the sting of a good cry coming back. She put her free hand to her face and tried to physically push it back in.

“Dorothea, please tell me what’s wrong?”

“I had a stupid bet with Sylvain,” Dorothea said, “to see if I could make you my girlfriend but everything went off the rails and now you’re getting back together with your ex!”

When Dorothea dropped her hand, Ingrid’s expression wasn’t at all what she was expecting. Instead of sympathetic or upset she looked—confused. “I thought I already was your girlfriend?”

“What?” Dorothea blinked at her. “ _What_?”

“We’re not dating?” Ingrid asked.

“You thought we were?” Dorothea couldn’t believe what was happening. What was happening?

Ingrid rubbed the bridge of her nose. “We go on dates and we’ve been making out for the last month, what did you think that was?”

“I thought you were drunk!” Dorothea said. “You had drinks!”

“So did you,” Ingrid said. “They were parties, everyone was drinking. I wasn’t drunk. Why… Dorothea, I thought we’d been dating for weeks!”

“What?” Dorothea said again, laughing in disbelief. “I’ve been working myself to the bone to woo you! I thought you were… ignoring me.”

“I was not ignoring you,” Ingrid said. “I very much noticed that bikini today, and the matching hat and sarong before it became first aid.”

“But you’ve been so… so standoffish and not touchy.”

“I don’t like public displays of affection,” Ingrid said. “And we haven’t had a lot of privacy since we got here.”

Dorothea slapped her forehead. “We could have, if I hadn’t dropped out of the bet.”

Ingrid tugged the hand she was still holding lightly. “We have privacy now,” she pointed out.

Dorothea looked around the small powder room, which was only small by Blaiddyd standards. Normal powder rooms didn’t have fainting couches. She bit her lip and looked at Ingrid again. “So… you’re my girlfriend?”

“If you still want me to be,” Ingrid said, smiling.

Dorothea locked the door and kissed Ingrid senseless, no longer caring about her makeup.

* * *

Sylvain ruminated over how terrible his life was as he walked past Lorenz sticking his tongue down some girl’s throat, who actually seemed to enjoy it. Not to mention the adorable sight of all his friends pairing off. Ashe with his boyfriend. Dedue chatting up Mercie. Annette and some green haired girl he’d never met. Dimitri actually… huh, Dimitri actually making out with Byleth. Good for him.

Sylvain ignored his urge to be proud and tried getting back into his preferred mode of self pity as he slouched down on the couch in the mostly empty study. Minus a passed out pair of grad students.

“Why are you acting so weird tonight?” Felix said, from behind him, because he was a fucking ninja.

Sylvain leaned his head back against the couch to stare up at him. “I always act weird.”

“Dorothea threw a drink on you,” Felix countered.

“I always get drinks thrown on me.”

“Not by your friends, usually,” Felix said, frowning at him. Fuck, he hated when Felix was frowning at him. It was like being stared at by a really sharp cheeked school marm.

“What happened to your new friend?”

“Yuri?” Felix asked and then came around the other side of the couch and sat next to him. “I don’t know. We exchanged numbers. I’m going to help him set up a fencing club at the extension campus.”

Exchanged numbers. So cute. Sylvain crossed his arms over his chest. “Tonight sucks.”

Felix stared at him. “Why? Your bacchanal seems to be the talk of the town.”

“Who _talks_ like that?” Sylvain groaned and put both his hands over his face, leaning back against the chair again. “This was the worst bet ever. How was I even supposed to think about accomplishing it? Dorothea is an evil genius. You are impossible.”

“What bet?” Felix asked.

Sylvain sighed and dropped his hands to slap against his legs. “I told Dorothea I could hook up with anyone in the house and she picked you, because you’re impossible to seduce, unless I _guess_ I want to start a fencing club.”

“You were trying to seduce me for a bet?” Felix seemed oddly calm all things considered. Maybe he was still on cloud nine from his new boyfriend.

“I didn’t get very far! I couldn’t think of anything. I only won on a technicality, because Dorothea freaked out.”

Felix stared at him for a long moment and then lowered his eyebrows and frowned. “Why didn’t you just do what you did last time?”

“What I did what now?”

Felix frowned harder. “Ferdinand’s Christmas party.”

“I don’t remember _anything_ from that —” Sylvain’s eyes widened. “We hooked UP?”

“Yes,” Felix said, mouth twisting. “I thought you wanted to pretend it didn’t happen when you didn’t bring it up afterwards.”

“You and me?” Sylvain asked, unable to process this information. “You and I made out? Did we have sex? What happened? Why can’t I remember this? What was in that punch?!”

Felix was still frowning. “You seriously don’t remember?”

“No!” Sylvain said. “What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“I thought you didn’t want to mess up our friendship.”

“You thought wrong!” Sylvain said and then realized how that sounded. “Okay no, no that’s not what I meant. I mean I had trouble thinking of how to win this bet because I _didn’t_ want to mess up our friendship, but also…” He stared at Felix, suddenly remembering something that he hadn’t associated with Christmas. “Were you wearing an ugly teal sweater?”

“Dimitri’s mom made it,” Felix said, defensively.

“We hooked up!” Sylvain said.

Felix stared at him blankly.

“Do you want to do it again?” Sylvain asked, grinning and feeling a little lightheaded that what he’d thought was a very strange erotic dream was actually last Christmas and _Felix_.

“Not so you can win a bet,” Felix said.

Sylvain shook his head. “Dorothea already bailed on it. I have the single room now. I have only pure motives behind wanting to ruin you and our friendship.”

Felix looked at him contemplatively. “The one with its own bathroom with the jetted tub and rainfall shower?”

“That’s the one.”

Felix had been pretty calm but there was a little hesitation in the way he leaned into Sylvain, but less so in the way he swung his leg over Sylvain’s so that he was straddling him. Sylvain looked up at him and smiled, cupping the side of Felix’s face. “For the record I _don’t_ actually want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yeah I know,” Felix said. “Are we going to make out or are you going to continue to have an existential crisis?”

Sylvain grinned and tugged Felix down by his shirt to kiss him. He loved spring break.

**Author's Note:**

> The single room is officially claimed by Edelgard while everyone else is otherwise occupied.


End file.
